


For Myself The Violent Conquest

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Barihunk!Cas, Bottom Sam, M/M, Opera AU, Reestablished Relationship, Top Castiel, first time in a long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's had it with hotheaded, distractingly sexy baritones, particularly one Castiel Novak.  The problem is he wants him so bad he's not sure what to do with himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Myself The Violent Conquest

**Author's Note:**

> If this fic looks familiar - you're correct. It used to be a Destiel thing. However seeing as I how I don't even remotely ship it anymore I decided to retool this fic and make it Sastiel. I can't say I'm even a little bit sorry about doing so.

            Sam Winchester had decided that he had had it up to here with hothead baritones.

            He was shifting nervously on the podium, the score to Giacomo Puccini's _Tosca_ open on the music stand in front of him, orchestra ready to go.  It was the dress rehearsal, the fucking d _ress rehearsal,_ and his Baron Scarpia, Castiel Novak was late _again._ They had gotten up to the character's entrance, and where was Castiel?  Not on stage where he was fucking supposed to be, Sam thought.  Of course, after yesterday's fight between them, why should he be?

            He replayed the fight over in his head.  Sam had suggested taking a tempo a little faster, but Cas had refused to sing at the new pace, and after starting and stopping the orchestra five times, Sam had finally lost his temper, and yelled at Cas, calling him several choice names and Cas had stormed out, leaving Sam to dismiss the orchestra, the other singers, and himself to think about what he was going to do.

            He hated this stupid routine between them.  Cas was a bigger fucking diva than a lot of the sopranos that Sam had worked with.

            The worst part was that he was completely and hopelessly in love with him.

            They had had an on again, off again relationship that went all the way back to their conservatory days, and now a decade later they had gotten back together and broken up at least six times.  The other problem was that Cas was ridiculously talented, and was in demand the world over.  Like been invited to the Vienna State Opera to sing fresh out of grad school talented.  But now, at the Metropolitan Opera in New York, Sam was at the make or break point in his career.  This was his house debut, and he was not about to let a stupidly gorgeous, stupidly stupid ex boyfriend ruin that.  Sam knew his self-worth and it wasn’t going to be broken by one Castiel Novak.  He had long dreamed of doing this, and it was in their senior production that Sam had played the violin and fallen in love with Castiel, who was singing the very role at the time that he was supposed to be on stage doing now.  It also didn’t help that Cas’s voice had only gotten stronger and better over the years and conflict or not it still sounded like hot, melted chocolate to Sam’s ears.

            Right as Sam was about to go on without Cas, the dark haired man came striding in from stage left, Sam's anger going up at the self-satisfied look on Cas's face.  It was the look that Cas got after he had had sex, one that Sam knew all too well.  Sam looked up at him, bright green eyes flashing with anger.  Cas was a notorious rake, and he had slept his way around the world, it seemed like.  It was his way of getting back at Sam, usually over monumentally stupid things like tempo changes.  Sam couldn't help but remember a time when he was the only one Cas slept with.  It made his heart hurt, but he kept his face fixed in a look of anger and annoyance.

            Sam spoke, a hint of danger in his voice.  “So nice of you to join us, Mr, Novak.”  The eyes of the orchestra and chorus were all on the two of them, expecting another exchange like the day before. 

            “Sorry, Maestro but I was... busy.”  Cas winked, and it was all Sam could do to keep him from coming up on stage and pitching him to the auditorium floor.

            “If you are ready, we'll be starting with act II.”

            Cas bowed mockingly.  “As you wish, _Sam._ ” 

            Yes, Sam thought to himself.  He might actually kill him.

.  .  .

            The rest of rehearsal went smoothly enough, and as the musicians were filing out of the orchestra pit, Sam took a long swig from his water bottle, looking up at the stage.  He wasn't really looking for Cas, but at the same time he was.  The rehearsal had gone really well, and he knew that tomorrow night's show was going to be spectacular, Cas being a complete and total asshole aside. 

            As he was about to walk out of the auditorium, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and saw that it was Castiel, approaching him with a pace that said _I need to talk to you._

Dropping his voice to just above a whisper, Sam said “What the hell do you want?”

            Cas grinned and closed the space between them.  “Oh I think you know precisely what I want.”  Sam fought hard against the twinge of arousal he felt deep in his body, and he steeled himself, a sharp edge in his voice.  “And why the fuck would I give you that Cas?  Do you have  a good reason why I would ever do that with you again?”  Sam had found it very hard to forget the way Cas had broken his heart the last time.  He wasn't about to give in.

            “Because you can't resist me Sam.”  Before Sam could protest again, Cas's lips were against his, soft and full and hot.  Sam started to kiss back, but he stopped himself.  He shoved Cas backwards, suddenly regretting a little that he did.  “Stay the fuck away from me Castiel.”  He hoped that he sounded threatening, but it just seemed to egg Cas on.  “Well I'm interested in at least one of the words in that sentence.” 

Sam was as livid as he was turned on at this point – and he was very, very turned on.

“I'm serious.  You come near me and I call the cops. You won't fucking sing anywhere within a thousand miles of me.  You got it?” Sam's face burned with shame as he felt tears start to well up in him.

            “Fine, I'll leave you alone.  But this isn't over yet Sam.  You know it, and I know it.”  Cas turned on his heel, and Sam tried hard to not watch his ass as he walked away.  He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and started towards his dressing room.

            The worst part was that he had an erection that spoke volumes about how he very much wanted Castiel to touch him again.

            No, this definitely wasn't over between them.

.  .  .

            For opening night of a new production, Sam was normally very nervous.  Tonight though, instead of the painfully recent emotional turmoil the heady effect of a full house and orchestra that he had worked hard with replaced his troubles for the moment at least, and as he stepped out from the wings to greet the audience, he smiled wide. He bowed as deeply as he could to the house, smiling and mouthing thank you at them.  How long had he waited for this day?  Years, he thought to himself. He wasn't the youngest conductor to ever take the Met podium but to do so at thirty felt pretty fucking awesome, he decided.

            The lights went down and the curtain went up as he brought forth the loud opening chords of Puccini's masterpiece.  The trombones sounded forth, unleashing a torrent of sound that Sam found that he could get used to this on a regular basis.

            When it came time for Cas's entrance towards the end of the first act, Sam really hoped that the orchestra was looking at their music instead of him because he looked absolutely stunning in his costume, and Sam couldn't help but notice the tightness of it, the way it clung to Cas's long legs, and the way that Cas sang with that smoldering expression that Sam had seen oh so many times in the bedroom.

            And they still had well over an hour of music to go.

.  .  .

            The applause started as soon as Tosca had flung herself off the balcony, drowning out the conclusion to the music.  Sam dropped his arms and turned – everyone was standing, cheering loudly, for what they had just experienced was likely the performance of a lifetime.  Sam was smiling ear to ear, sweat dripping from his forehead.  He went up to the wings, and Cas was standing there at stage right, waiting to take his bow. Sam swallowed when he saw the lust pooling in Cas's eyes.  As they walked out to take their cast bow, Cas leaned in to whisper in Sam's ear “My dressing room.  Ten minutes.  We need to talk.”

            Sam wanted to say no, until Cas was the one standing next to him, linking his hand with his as he and the rest of the singers took their traditional bow.

            How had he gotten to this point?

            Oh yeah, he thought.  I remember.

            Ten years earlier

            _Sam wasn't exactly thrilled about being the staff accompanist to the School of Music's opera, but he was going to do it anyway –   He had his own recital to plan, and grad school applications to worry about but when the head of the Opera Department himself had asked, he couldn't exactly turn him down.  He was waiting in a practice room for the production's Baron Scarpia, some guy named Castiel, to appear so they could get on with it.  Helping pushy and snobby vocalists was not something he was looking forward to, but he figured that it would look good on his resume._

_He was slowly practicing the left hand part of Balakriev's Islamey, the finale to his senior recital, when he heard a knock at the door.  He got up and opened it, and he felt his breath hitch because he was looking at the most handsome boy he had ever seen.  He had the brightest, bluest eyes that Sam had ever seen on a person, male or female.  He had thick black hair that looked like it had been tousled by sex, but something told Sam that that was how it naturally looked, that it wasn't deliberate.  He was dressed quite nattily; on anyone else, it would have looked foppish but on him it looked really good.  What surprised Sam even more was the fact that Castiel was looking back at him with largely the same expression.  Sam reacted first.  He hoped his voice didn't crack too much as he spoke.  “Castiel?”_

_Cas straightened and gave Sam a radiant smile.  “That's me.  Baron Scarpia, if anyone else asks.”  He bowed slightly and Sam couldn’t help but give a hopefully manful chuckle, but Cas didn't seem to mind._

_“Alright, Baron, what do you need to work on?”  Sam sat down at the piano, and Cas closed the door behind him.  He brought a thick score out of his satchel, and sat down on the piano bench next to Sam.  Sam thrilled at the heat of Cas's thigh pressing to his skin through his pants leg._

_Cas opened the score and indicated several pages in acts two and three. “These spots.  I've got the words down, just need to do them with accompaniment.”_

_Cas stood, moving to stand next to the piano.  He nodded, indicating that he was ready.  Cas's rich, deep voice filled the small room as he began to sing, and Sam almost forgot to play because Castiel Novak was a force of nature when he sang._

_By the time their hour came to a close, Sam was convinced that he was in love._

_.  .  ._

_The night of the final performance, Sam was taking his place in the wings.  He had also trained for the role of prompter – much better than trying to saw his way through on violin. (He was good but not THAT good.)  As he was getting his materials ready, he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned on his stool, and Cas was standing there in his costume, and before he could speak Cas kissed him, shoving a piece of paper into his hand.  Sam moaned low in his throat as Cas's tongue filled his mouth, tasting him, seeking more. Just as suddenly, Cas pulled back and said “Here's my number.  I want to see you after the show Sam, so if you don't mind sticking around...”_

_Sam nodded, and pulled Cas down for a kiss, which he willingly gave.  “I'll be right here Cas.  Don't worry.”_

_The opera was a complete and total success, and the applause for Castiel was the loudest of all.  Sam was crying tears that only accompanied a truly moving performance, and when Cas turned to look at him from the stage his stomach dropped, because the look on Cas's face screamed_ I want you. 

_Later that night, after several celebratory drinks in Cas's apartment, Sam lost his virginity on Cas's bed, screaming Cas's name over and over again as the star of the show fucked him hard into the mattress, his fingers tangled in Sam’s long hair.  It was a hell of a way to start a relationship, but it did.  For a month, it was nothing but hot kisses and hands, all the way up until graduation, when Sam walked across the stage with his ass full of Cas's come, smiling to himself as he shook the chancellor's hand._

_They had both gone to grad school after that, with Sam getting a masters in conducting, and Castiel singing on bigger and bigger stages as he earned his in voice and teaching.  Sam was sure it would be forever until halfway through his second year he came home to he and Cas's apartment, Cas with his legs spread on the couch and one of his students giving him a blowjob._

_That was the first time they broke up._

_Cas had tried to write it off as she didn't have enough money to pay for her lesson, and Cas had agreed.  Sam had stormed out, got piss-drunk, and picked up some guy and brought him back to their apartment and fucked him in the bed he and Cas slept in every night, and Cas had walked in on them, the hurt painfully obvious in his eyes, but Sam wanted him to feel bad for what he had done._

_They continued this screwed up system of give and take for four years after that, until they had finally broken it off for good, but over that period of time they found themselves working together a lot, because opera has this funny way of bringing talent together.  The working part of their relationship was fruitful, in spite of the fact that Sam burned half with desire and half with intense dislike for Castiel._

_.  .  ._

Sam found himself playing these thought over and over again in his mind as he walked to Cas's dressing room.  He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be going back to Cas, but he wanted closure.  Or sex.  Or both. God, he just wanted Cas, and Cas to want him. Of course, if the kiss he had attempted to give him was any sort of indication, maybe Cas was finally willing to commit to just him.

            He took a deep breath and loosened his bowtie, knocking on the door after working himself up to actually do this.  Castiel must have been standing near the door, still in costume,  because he opened it after just two knocks.  Sam got the same look from him as he did all those years ago when he first met him.

            Sam closed his eyes and said “Cas, please don't look at me like that.  That's not going to make this any easier.”  Sam's voice sounded weary, tired.

            Cas stepped aside, leaving Sam room to come in if he wanted.  “I just want to talk for a few minutes. Am I at least worth that to you?”

            _Like you wouldn't believe,_ Sam thought.  “Yeah, I guess.”  Sam stepped into the room, and Cas shut the door behind him.  “You can sit Sam, I'm not going to jump you.”

            Sam settled onto the couch, sitting up straight and his posture defensive.  “It's what you tried yesterday, so why should I expect different from you?”

            Cas put up a hand, stopping him.  “Sam, I'd really rather not do that.  I asked you to come for a different reason.”

            Sam swallowed.  “What for then?”

            Cas came over and sat down next to Sam on the couch, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his thighs.  “I brought you here to apologize.”

            “I'm listening.”  Sam didn't want to get his hopes up, but his heart started to beat a little faster all the same.

            “Sam, I'm sorry. Sorry for how I've treated you, the things I've done, the suffering I've caused you.”

            Sam's tone was a little angry. “Cas, how many times have I heard you say those words before, huh? How many times have you said that only to tear me down again, fucking ripped my heart out.  I can't go through that again.”  Sam fought back the tears that were threatening to spill over his cheeks.

            “This time I mean them Sam.  I love you, and it's taken me a long time to realize that, but it's true.  I've been in love with you for a decade now.”  He turned to face Sam.  “I was afraid to say it, afraid to admit it to myself because I don't deserve you Sam.  I never have.”  Gone was the bravura and pomp that normally came with Castiel, instead replaced by the most utter sincerity that Sam had ever seen on a person's face.  “You have to believe me Sam.”

            Sam wasn't quite believing what he was hearing.  “Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that to me Cas?”

            “Too long Sam, and I should have done it sooner.  Even when I was with other... people, I thought about you every time.  That's when I realized it was you I wanted Sam.  No one else, and I'll do whatever it takes for you to be convinced of it.”  He put his hand on Sam's thigh and turned to look at him. 

            “Cas I want to believe you, I do.  But...”  Sam still couldn't shake the doubt that was there.

            Cas put his hand on the back of Sam's head, and pressed their foreheads together. “Then let me show you how much I mean it.”  Cas turned him and kissed him, and this time Sam didn't resist.  Kissing Castiel was probably the next best thing to sleeping with him. A flood memories, both sad and happy, came rushing back into his mind as Cas tried to deepen the kiss, his tongue pressing against Sam's lips.  Sam opened his mouth, and Cas was suddenly in it, the same all-consuming feeling that came with that first kiss all those years ago right there, feeling like it had never been gone. 

            Sam broke the kiss and said “Before I tell myself that this isn't some dream Cas-”

            Castiel put two finger to his lips, cutting off his speech.  “I wouldn't have asked you to come here had I not been serious.  Sam, I love you.  I've loved you since that first kiss all those years ago.”  Cas gripped Sam's hand tight, emphasizing his meaning.

            Sam smiled at him.  “In that case, do you mind if we move this somewhere a little more comfortable?” 

            A hint of lust crept into Cas's eyes.  “Where are you staying?”

            “Same place as always in New York – the Hotel Gabriel.”  Sam had first stayed there when he was fresh out of grad school and been invited to conduct the New York City Opera.

            “Me too – what floor?”

            “The 9th.  Lucky number, remember?”

            Cas smiled.  “Yeah I do.  I'm on the 11th.  I'm gonna get out of this costume – I'll meet you out front in ten minutes, alright?”

            Sam gave him another kiss.  “Alright.”

.  .  .

            After dodging a crowd of well wishers and fans, Castiel ducked around a large column out the front of the house and saw Sam shaking hands with a group of important looking men, smiling widely.  Cas recognized the house manager and a couple members of the Met Board, and they looked very pleased.  Cas waited for them to part and went out to Sam.

            “I take it that was a happy meeting?”  Cas gestured towards the departing bigwigs.

            Sam's smile could have lit up Lincoln Center.  “Very. They want to talk further with me about coming back later this year, perhaps even take me on as a principal guest conductor.”  Sam was trying his hardest to contain his excitement.

            Cas put his arms around him and kissed him.  “Well congratulations maestro.”

 Sam smiled again, a warm look in his eyes that reminded Sam of just how much Cas was capable of caring. 

“Thanks Cas.”

            Cas pulled him away from the opera house.  “Come on – I got here by taxi, unless you have a car.”

            Sam shook his head.  “The house sent a car for me, actually.  I told him to let me get back to the hotel myself.  Not worth him going out of his way for me.”

            Castiel just smiled and took Sam's hand in his.

.  .  .

            The cab drive back to their hotel was unexpectedly long, between traffic from the opera and the fact that it was New York City.  Cas was quiet most of the way back, contenting himself with just holding Sam's hand and resting his head against his shoulder.  Sam remembered when they were like this all the time, and he was really, really hoping that this time it would last. Yeah he was probably stupid for letting himself fall into it again, but Cas really did look and sound serious about this.

            Once tipping the driver generously, Cas held Sam's door open for him, and as he got out of the car gave his ass a squeeze, making Sam let loose a small yelp.

            Yeah, he was getting it good tonight.

            Had they been the only ones in the elevator, Sam was sure that Cas would have been all over him, but instead Cas just opted to stand as close to him as possible and shove his hand down the back of his tuxedo pants, cupping Sam's ass and not looking like he had a care in the world.  Sam made sure no one else noticed and let himself relax a little more, and Cas ran a finger along the cleft between Sam's cheeks, and Sam got an erection faster than he had in a long time.

            Of course, Cas had always had that effect on him.

            Cas did at least wait until they were in Sam's room to launch himself into Sam's arms.  He had Sam up against the door as soon as it was shut, kissing him hungrily, teeth catching Sam's bottom lip in a way that should have been painful but only served to make his cock harder.  Cas skillfully unbuttoned Sam's shirt, breaking the kiss to say “Not the first time I've stripped you out of a tux Sam, is it?”  Sam tugged off his jacket and cummerbund, throwing them to the floor.  “And I'm hoping it's not the last Cas.”  He picked Cas up in a fireman's carry and took him over to the bed, setting him down on it and removing his shirt. 

            Cas licked his lips and eyed him hungrily as he removed his own dress shirt.  “I see that you're still keeping fit.”

            Sam chuckled and got on the bed, pressing his naked torso to Cas's.  “You try conducting _The Ring_ at anything less than full strength.”  He kissed Cas on the lips again, his tongue running along the inside of Cas's mouth, teeth barely grazing over his bottom lip.  Cas broke the kiss and said “Wait - when did you conduct The Ring?”

            Sam planted wet, hot kisses down Cas's body, swirling his tongue in his navel, causing Cas to moan.  How long had it been since he heard that?  He licked his way down Cas's treasure trail, and paused to hum against the outline of Cas's cock in his dress slacks.  “Last year in Frankfurt.  Fucking ugly production but I got a big fat paycheck out of it.”

            Cas looked down at him, eyes blazing bright blue as he watched Sam unfasten his pants. “I... god Sam need your mouth on me.... I heard about that production.  I’m truly sad I had to miss it.  You've always done so well with Wagner.”  Sam got Cas's pants off and pulled down his briefs with them, and Cas's thick cock sprang out with a loud slap against his stomach.

            Sam licked up the underside, earning himself another moan from Cas.  “Want to hear a little secret Cas?”

            Cas put a hand in Sam's hair, guiding Sam's warm, hot mouth to the head of his cock.  “Of course.”

            Sam stuck out his tongue, tasting the precome that had collected in a dewy drop on the end of Castiel's dick.  “I'm conducting _Die Meistersinger_ this summer at Bayreuth.  When I saw your name on the cast list I was kind of disappointed but now...”  Sam opened his mouth wide and swallowed Cas all the way down, muscle memory serving him well.

            Cas laid back on the soft mattress, letting Sam take him in the way only he knew how.  “Fuck... Sam... missed this so goddamn much.” Sam hummed contentedly around Cas's dick, using long, slow motions to drive Cas wild.  “We're... totally doing this in Bayreuth.  Gonna blow you before you go on.  I'll sing with the taste of your come in my mouth Sam.”  Sam pulled off of Cas and looked up at him.  “Won't be the first time, will it?”

            Cas smiled down at him.  “No it won't.  Remember Los Angeles right after we got back together the second time?”

            Sam went back down on Cas's cock for a moment, sucking him hard and _just right._ He swirled his tongue the wide flared head, his tongue dipping into the slit to get at more of Cas's slick, the taste of Cas's sweetish precome bursting into his mouth.  Sam felt himself get harder in his slacks, and he picked his lower body up to get them off.  He took his mouth off of Cas's cock, gasping for air.  “Oh I remember Cas.  First time I'd ever gone on stage high off of an orgasm.”  He moved back up Cas's body to cup Cas's face in his hands.

            “You protested until I got down on my knees and blew you.  Noticed that you shut up real quick after that.”  Cas kissed Sam again, the taste of his own precome and Sam's mouth making his arousal soar even higher.  Yeah, it had been way too long.

            “You give way better head than you take credit for Cas.” 

            Cas smiled evilly.  “Get on your back Sam and I can do you one better.”

            Sam complied and Cas slid down his body, licking his way down, leaving a hot trail of fire that only Cas had ever been able to make him feel.  It was like their bodies were made for each other, Sam thought. 

            Cas licked up Sam's cock, using the flat of his tongue in an open mouthed gesture and then closing it over his shaft, halfway down.  He took a finger and pressed it against Sam's perineum, and the sound he got out of Sam from doing that was music to his ears. He began to bob his head up and down on him, hollowing his cheeks to get a nice, tight hold on him.  Yeah Sam might have been a fast rising conductor but Cas knew him way better than that – Sam was a complete and total pushover when someone was giving him head, and Cas gave him the best.

            Sam fisted the sheets above him, knowing that Cas didn't like it when he touched him while giving him a blowjob.  Cas moved his fingers down and pressed against Sam's entrance.  It felt tight and crazy hot, just how Cas very vividly remembered.

            Cas gave Sam's cock one more good long lick and moved back up the bed, kissing Sam hard on the mouth, rutting his cock into the juncture of Sam's thighs.  “Before we do this Sam, I just want to say...  God Sam I just want you, okay?  No more bullshit and tears, I promise.  Sam, baby, I have fucking missed you so goddamn much.”  Cas kissed him again, a sweet, tender gesture that went straight to Sam's heart. “I love you Sam.  So, so much.”

            Sam put a hand to the side of Cas's face.  “I know, Cas. I know.  It's okay, I've never stopped.”  He brought Cas's face closer to his. “Ever.”  Cas tried his best to pour all of his apologies and feelings for Sam into the next kiss, and Sam believed him, believed completely that Cas was his now, and only his.

            Sam pushed Cas off of him gently, and hot up to go over to his suitcase, and Cas watched his ass move across the room, his breath hitching with every footstep that he took.  Sam came back a moment later with a condom and a packet of lube, and he pushed them into Cas's hands.  “Just like we used to Cas.  Just like how we're gonna keep doing.”  Sam laid back on the bed and opened his legs, offering himself up to Cas, trust in his eyes. 

            Cas planted gentle kisses up Sam's leg as he rolled the condom down the length of his cock, putting half of the lube on him and the other on Sam, Sam's breath catching as he felt the cool liquid against him.  Cas began to work the lube into him carefully, pressing two fingers gently inside Sam, feeling the warm tightness there and thinking to himself why did I ever give this up?  Sam moaned as Cas scissored his fingers, getting him good and open.  Sam writhed as Cas pressed his fingers deeper and crooked his index finger, finding the swollen mass that was Sam's prostate, and he gently pressed the pad of his finger against it, and Sam's hips bucked up off the bed. 

            Smiling, Cas did this a few more times, watching Sam come apart a little more each time, until Sam was pleading with his whole being.  Yeah, he hadn't lost his touch with Sam in the least. He withdrew his fingers, and Sam whimpered at the loss of contact, only to suddenly be filled with Cas's cock, slowly sliding into him, the phrase we make a  perfect fit playing in his mind again.

            Cas put Sam's legs on his shoulder and began to thrust in and out, his blue eyes dark with lust, his hands keeping a tight grip on Sam's thighs as he did so.  Sam had his eyes closed and his head tossed back, Cas taking him for all he was worth.  “God... Cas... so... fucking... good... fuck...” 

            Cas sped up a little more, sinking his teeth into the fleshy part of Sam's calf, the sensation of pain sending Sam's arousal through the roof, and he arched his back, a sob of pleasure spilling over his lips. Cas had learned that little trick a long time ago, loving that Sam would let him mark him like this. 

            “Mine Sam, always mine.”  Cas's voice sounded rough, even more gravelly than usual with lust. 

            “Yours Cas, always yours.”  Sam was on the edge of orgasm, his cock pulsing with every heart beat as Cas hit him in his sweet spot with every deep, deliberate thrust.  Cas was driving him mad, the pleasure overwhelming.  He reached down and gave his cock a light tug, only for Cas to remove his right hand from his leg and bat his hand away, saying “Let me.”  Cas began to jack him in time with his thrusts, the sync between his hand and his hips nearly perfect. 

            It was as though they had never parted, at least sexually. 

            Cas felt like Sam was getting tighter and tighter around him, the heat building between them, and Cas felt sweat run down his back.  He gave Sam one, two, three more long strokes, the same action in his hips, and Sam came, yelling Cas's name at the top of lungs, long, thick white ropes of come spattering his chest and stomach, and Cas came right behind him, filling the condom while buried to the hilt in Sam's ass, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

            After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, Cas collapsed forward, withdrawing from Sam in the same motion, the condom coming off and spilling Cas's come all over the bedspread.  Sam carded a hand through Cas's sweaty hair, reveling in the feel of Cas's hot breath against his chest.  He planted butterfly kisses across the top of Cas's head, Cas mewling contentedly with each brush of Sam's lips.

            “Do you want to stay the night Cas?”  Sam's tone was serious.

            “Of course I do Sam.  I always slept best with your arms around me.”  Cas turned his head and looked at him, smiling.

            “You can every night, if you want to.” Sam kissed him on the forehead, and Cas snuggled closer, their bodies sticky with come.

            “I do want to Sam, really.”

            Sam smiled again.

.  .  .

            The next day at rehearsal, Sam was in an exuberant mood.  The energy he had transferred over to the performance that night, and at the end, the house cheering wildly, Cas smiled the widest of all, hand in hand with Sam, because he knew that life was going to be massively improved by the arousing, bemusing, wonderful presence of one hotheaded baritone.

           

            That didn’t sound too bad at all.

           


End file.
